


The One Where Harry's a Top-Virgin

by SPowell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Firsts, Hung!Harry, Light Dom/sub, M/M, bottom!Draco, brief voyeurism, cockslut!Draco, feminization in dirty talk, flatmates, lacy knickers, role play, top-virgin!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: The characters herein belong to JK Rowling. I do not own them or receive monies for this endeavor. This is for entertainment purposes only.</p><p>Harry's so big, men balk at him topping. But not Draco.</p><p>Please see notes before reading.</p><p>This is written for the wonderful capitu as a birthday gift. It features hung!Harry, one of her favorites.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Harry's a Top-Virgin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [capitu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitu/gifts).



> Note: "Dirty Talk" includes the feminizing term "man-pussy," "pussy," and "boy-cunt." (Just in case your dirty talk needs only extend so far.)
> 
> Happy belated birthday, capitu! Better late than never, I hope.

“Oh my fucking Merlin, Potter!”

The sound of a cup falling and rolling about on the floor brings Harry’s head around, and he missteps as he climbs into his pants.

“What?”

Draco’s grey eyes are round and huge in his pale face. Harry puts his left foot into his pants again and tugs them up his legs.

“You’re fucking _hung_!”

Harry blushes and carefully tucks himself into his pants. “Sod off.”

Draco continues to stare. “Why didn’t I know this?”

Harry pushes his glasses up on his face and grabs his trousers off the chair. “Why _would_ you?”

“We went to school together, Potter. We’re roommates—wouldn’t you think I’d ever hear? Or ever see?”

 Harry shrugs. “I don’t know why anyone would talk about my cock, Malfoy.”

“Because it’s the biggest fucking thing they’ve ever seen?” Malfoy takes a step into the room. "Is that what you used to kill Voldemort?"

Harry snorts, rolling his eyes. “It isn’t that big.”

“Oh, yes, it is.” Draco circles around Harry, eyes all over him. “I’ve seen quite a few cocks, Potter, and yours is bigger than all of them. How you walk without tripping over it, I have no idea.”

Harry moves past Draco into the hallway. “Now you’re just being a wanker. I’m late for work. See you.”

Harry leaves Draco standing in the middle of his bedroom.

When Harry gets home that evening, Draco is the most talkative he's ever been since they moved in together as fellow Aurors. Ron shares the flat, too, but he spends most of his time at Hermione’s. Harry and Draco have spent many a nearly-silent dinner together, animosity buried long ago but still having nothing much to say to one another after work hours.

“So, how long is it?” Draco asks.

Harry’s in the middle of cutting his sausage into bite-size pieces, and for a minute he thinks Draco might be talking about that. “What?”

“Your cock, of course.”

“Malfoy!”

“I’m only curious.”

Harry sighs. “About ten inches, I think. It’s not like I’ve ever measured it.”

“Hard or soft?”

“Both. It just gets hard…it doesn’t grow.”

Draco lets out a whistle. “Oi. A show-er, then. I’m a grower. Seven inches hard.”

Harry pauses in his cutting. “I’d rather be that size, frankly. Big, but not frighteningly so.” Odd how cock size, of all things, is the subject to bring Draco out of his shell and get them really talking to one another.

Draco frowns. “That’s mad; Your cock is every man’s dream.”

Harry shrugs and continues slicing into his sausages.

“Scares people off.” Harry remembers Ginny's cry of fear when she first saw it. They never ended up having sex. Just as well, since not long after that Harry figured out he was bent. But Harry’s size has kept him from topping--no bloke has ever wanted to take him on. Harry’s had to bottom every time, and it isn’t his preference.

“You’re a top, then,” Draco says knowingly. Freaky how he often seemed to read Harry's mind. “Well, all I have to say about that is, any true bottom would love to have that much cock stuffed inside him.”

Harry pauses, fork in mid-air and cheeks red. His cock twitches inside his trousers.

The air around them seems to crackle, and Draco meets Harry’s gaze, grey eyes almost entirely black pupil. Harry can feel his prick hardening against his thigh.

“Can I see it again?” Draco asks.

“I’m not some kind of circus freak, Malfoy,” Harry says, but the comment lacks ire. He finds he kind of wants to show Draco his cock, and what does that mean?

Draco licks his lips, and Harry’s prick jerks again. Draco's tongue is pink and long.

“I know-- I just didn’t get a very good look before, and--I--I want to see it. Please.” _Holy Merlin, Draco's voice is rough with need._

Harry shifts in his seat. Draco Malfoy is begging to see his cock. He’s gorgeous, and definitely the first bloke Harry’s encountered who isn’t terrified of his size, not that Harry’s been with that many men. Not at all. But still...

Harry rises slowly and takes off his robes, Draco’s eyes pinned to every move. Harry unbuckles his belt, and Draco's lips part. Emboldened, Harry slowly opens his trousers, watching Draco lean forward in his chair.

Harry lets them fall to the floor.

The outline of Harry’s cock is plainly visible beneath his blue pants, and he pushes his hips forward so Draco can get a good look.

“Oh, Salazar.” Draco's eyes take Harry in. He slides off his chair and drops to his knees at Harry’s feet. “I think it’s longer than ten inches.” Draco's voice is like sandpaper and sexy as hell.

Harry holds his breath as Draco leans in and fervently mouths the cloth. Electric desire runs through Harry’s veins. Slowly, he tugs his pants down, hooking them underneath the swell of his balls and letting his full length spring forth, thick, long, and very hard. His cock juts out toward Malfoy's chin like an arrow. Harry can’t help the sudden pride he feels—it’s not difficult with Draco looking at him like that.

Emboldened, Harry takes himself in hand and runs the tip over Draco’s parted lips before gently smacking him in the face with it. Draco puts out his tongue, and Harry pats the wet muscle with the head of his dick, biting back a groan at the feel.

"May I?" Draco asks, voice soft. Harry nods, barely able to breathe as Draco opens to take Harry into his hot, wet mouth. Harry’s vision blurs a little, and he staggers back against the kitchen counter, grabbing onto the edges as Draco’s tongue runs all over the tip and around the sides of Harry’s prick, cheeks hollowing out as he begins to suck. _Merlin, if feels so good._ Soon, slurping sounds fill the room, and Harry closes his eyes for a moment, head going light. Draco’s long fingers wrap around the base of Harry’s cock, wringing it with the spittle that’s gathered there. A thrum takes up low in Harry’s belly, and his groin tingles.

Harry looks down again at the glorious sight of Malfoy kneeling at his feet, mouth stuffed.

“Fuck, Malfoy…”

Draco’s eyes rise to Harry’s, and he pulls off with a pop, lips sinfully wet and swollen.

“Oh, yes… _yes_ , Potter…please!”

It takes Harry only a brief moment to process what Draco is asking for. He flicks his wrist, clearing the table of dishes with one wide sweep of his hand.

“Trousers off,” Harry orders, and Draco races to comply, fingers fumbling over his fly. When Harry sees what Draco has on underneath, he practically comes in his pants.

A pair of peach-coloured women’s knickers.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy.”

“You like?” Draco raises a brow before kicking his trousers aside and shimming out of the knickers. Harry almost hates to see them go.

Draco climbs onto the table, and Harry takes a few seconds to admire the sight as he steps out of his own trousers and pants. He’s always thought Draco handsome, and he’s admired the man’s backside more than once; but he’d never considered Draco a possible lover, what with their volatile history. It’s one thing to work and live with the man and get on reasonably well; it’s another to shag him. At the moment Harry thinks he’s never seen anything quite so sexy as that round, white arse up in the air waiting for him, hole small, pink, and eagerly winking.

Draco’s breathing hard, hands clutching the edge of the table, eyes peering over one shoulder at where Harry holds his cock in his hand like a weapon.

A full-blown shiver runs down Draco’s body. Harry can see the goosebumps popping up on the alabaster skin, making Harry greedy to see what other reactions he can draw out of the normally stoic man.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Harry says, voice low. Draco squeaks, then clears his throat, and Harry takes that as his cue to step forward. He shivers at the realisation that he’s going to stuff his prick into that tight hole.

“Accio oil.” Harry catches the bottle that flies from the cupboard in a trembling hand. He massages the warm liquid into his cock. Draco still peers over his shoulder with lust-blown eyes, and it makes Harry bold.

He lets his cock jut out obscenely from his body, something that used to embarrass him but now felt oddly good. “I’m going to fuck you with this,” Harry says, voice even. “Long and hard.”

Draco groans and pushes his arse back invitingly. Harry up-ends the bottle of oil and trickles it over Draco, reaching forward to smear it over the pale globes and down into the crack, then goes even further and rubs it over Draco's prick and balls. Draco moans low in his throat and widens his legs as Harry’s slick finger breaches him.

“So pretty,” Harry says, running the pad of his thumb over the small, wrinkled entrance. He’s unsure what’s come over him; the only thing he knows is the elegant sway of Draco’s back as he reacts to Harry’s words. “You’re a natural bottom, aren’t you, Malfoy? I can’t wait to get into this gorgeous hole.” Harry thinks of the panties Malfoy'd been wearing. “Man-pussy.” The dirty term from Harry’s lips brings a helpless shudder from Draco.

“Gonna fuck you open and fill you up. You won’t be able to sit for days.”

Draco’s hole contracts and quivers around Harry’s thumb. Harry withdraws it, slips two fingers in and scissors them. Satisfied that Malfoy's loose and gagging for it, he steps forward.

Watching his cock head push into Draco’s pretty rose has to be the sexiest thing Harry’s ever seen. Coupled with the noises Draco makes, it’s almost enough to bring Harry too soon. Draco lifts his arse, pushing back onto Harry and taking in the first quarter of Harry’s stiff cock, hole stretching obscenely. Draco pauses, panting, a sheen of sweat popping up over the lean curve of his back, and Harry swallows hard. This is virgin territory for him. The feel of Draco’s body surrounding his cock is torturous bliss. This is what Harry has wanted—to fuck a man. To fuck Draco Malfoy.

Still, Draco looks positively stuffed full, his entrance spread wide by Harry’s girth. Harry wonders if Draco will ask him to withdraw. Harry could hardly blame the man if he did, but if Harry knows if he has to pull out, he’s going to be very, very disappointed. He runs his hands comfortingly over Draco’s flank before dipping to stroke Draco's shaft and waits, breathless.

A few long seconds go by before Draco wiggles his arse. “More,” he rasps, and Harry wastes no time pushing forward. Draco’s legs begin to shake, and his knuckles turn white on the table edge, but he doesn’t stop Harry.

Remembering how Draco reacted to Harry’s dirty talk, he says, “Just look at your pussy eating my cock.” Draco lets out a keening noise, body loosening a bit, and Harry wishes Draco had left the pretty panties on, wrapped around those pale thighs. He bottoms out, balls pressed to Draco’s arse. Draco’s muscles contract around Harry’s cock, and Harry groans, trying to hold it together so he won’t come before he’s even started.

Draco is hot, gripping Harry tightly, and Harry’s sweating. He pauses, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it off while Draco attempts to fuck himself on Harry’s cock.

Harry chuckles. “Eager?” Draco snorts, hanging his head low and spreading his thighs even more.

As soon as Harry’s naked, he begins thrusting.

“So…so good, Malfoy…”

“Harder!” Draco begs. "Fuck me harder!" Harry speeds up, rocking the table as Draco hangs on. Harry tightens his buttocks, stabbing relentlessly, listening to Draco’s cries as Harry’s cock slides against his prostate again and again. Harry slows, breathing hard. He pulls almost all the way out, watching Draco’s hole cling to him.

“It doesn’t want to let me go,” Harry says before thrusting back in. "Your boy-cunt can't get enough of me, can it?"

Draco begins to babble senselessly, and Harry closes his eyes against the eager way Draco humps at the table, trying to find some friction against his needy cock. Harry raises one knee onto the table and keeps thrusting.

“Potter--Harry, oh Merlin, uh…uh…uh…”

Quivering tension builds in Harry’s toes, moving upward.

“Your cock! Harry, uh—uh--your fucking huge cock—it’s splitting me open. Uhnnnn…There! Oh, sweet Salazar, there!”

Harry’s balls tighten and a rush of molten pleasure explodes throughout his body as he empties inside Draco, filthy squelching sounds filling the room. Draco emits a low wail that goes on and on, rising as he begins to tremble with orgasm, muscles tightening in his back, buttocks, and legs as he spurts his release onto the table top, inner muscles clutching at Harry’s cock.

Harry continues to fuck Draco, riding out the tingles in his limbs and reveling in the aftershocks while watching Draco jerking at every swipe of Harry’s cock over his sensitive prostate.

“Oh, sweet Merlin…” Draco breathes, still white-knuckling the table edge. Cum spills from the edges of Draco's hole as Harry continues to thrust, trickling down pale arse cheeks and onto the table top. “Harry…Harry…you’re killing me.”

Impossibly, Harry’s growing hard again. He pounds Draco, listening to him wail.

“Oh…fuck, yes, fuck…ah, ah, uh…”

When Harry comes the second time, he sees fireworks. Draco’s a sobbing mess on the table, and Harry eases out and walks over to look at where Draco lies, eyes closed, cheek pressed against the wood.

“Are you all right?” Perhaps now is when Harry will see the disgust and fear.

Draco’s eyes flutter open, the colour of a storm at sea.

“Fucking perfect.” He smiles.

 

From that day on, all Harry’s got to do is whisper in Draco’s ear, “I’d like to sink into that tight, sweet pussy of yours,” and Draco’s immediately hard. Harry has to be careful when he says it, for Draco is apt to drag Harry away into the nearest closet for a quick shag. Harry can open Draco up easily now, since he bought Draco a plug that keeps him loose and waiting. He’s bent Draco over his desk more times than he can count, and Draco stays hungry for it.

Harry also buys Draco a lacy pair of white knickers. Ever since the peach panties, something about the thought of dragging Draco’s trousers down to find that slip of feminine underwear drives Harry wild with need. He wonders if Draco wears them often, or if that day had been a fluke.

“Have you got them on?” Harry asks Draco at the end of a long work day. Draco only winks. There’s no time for play, since they’ve both been invited to the Burrow for dinner. Harry spends the meal eying Draco and wishing to see the lacy knickers covering that gorgeous swell of arse. Molly Weasley asks him twice if he’s all right.

“Fine. Just got a lot going on at work.” Harry carefully avoids looking at Draco after that.

When Draco goes to the loo, Harry sees his chance and follows, locking the door behind them.

“Let me see,” he demands, and Draco gives a demure smirk before undoing his trousers and lowering them to the ground. Harry takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. The sight of Draco’s cock encased in all that white lace is gorgeous.

“Turn around and grip the sink.”

Draco does, staring at Harry in the mirror. Harry runs his hands over Draco’s arse, feeling the lace that clings to it. He pulls it aside and pushes a finger between Draco’s cheeks, whispering a lubricating spell. Draco bites his lip.

“Wanna shag you so bad,” Harry says on a moan into Draco’s neck. He tugs at Draco’s jaw until their lips meet in a heated kiss, tongues clashing. Kissing Draco is a whole other addiction altogether.

“So, do it,” Draco whispers into Harry’s mouth.

In no time, Harry’s pushing in, watching the painful pleasure taking over Draco’s face in the mirror. Harry gives it hard, as he knows Draco likes it, a hand covering Draco’s mouth to stifle his cries. Afterward Harry sits on the loo and sucks Draco off, lace knickers against his palm.

 

“Please fuck me,” Draco whispers at Luna’s birthday party. “Need you so, so bad.”

Harry looks around at their friends mingling in the rented room. He grasps Draco’s hand and tugs him into the hall, quickly spotting a closet and yanking him inside. Much fumbling ensues in the dark and then Harry’s seated on something with Draco facing away, his magically lubed arse speared on Harry’s thick cock.

“Oh, fuck, Harry…” Draco whines, bouncing up and down on Harry’s lap. Harry reaches around and feels until he has Draco’s cock in his hand, pumping it. Neither of them last long.

 

It’s inevitable they’ll get caught eventually. Oddly, it’s in their own flat, and not in one of the outrageously inappropriate places they frequently choose to fuck.

Harry has Draco draped over the back of the sofa, red silk knickers that Harry recently bought him pulled down to Draco’s knees and Harry’s cock buried deeply inside Draco’s arse, when the Floo flares up.

“What the—“ Ron stops mid-step, face incredulous at what he’s seeing.

After that, Ron thinks it’s for the best that he moves out.

“I’ve wanted to move in with Hermione, anyway,” he assures Harry. “I’ve only needed a nudge in that direction.” Then, not unexpectedly, “Malfoy, Harry? Really?”

Harry grins.

 

Having the flat completely to themselves opens up a whole new spectrum of kinks for Harry. When Draco has been his snarky self all day at work, Harry takes great pleasure in making him stand naked, feet apart and arms at his sides, in the middle of their bedroom (because now that Ron’s gone, what’s the point in having separate rooms?) while Harry slowly walks around him, taking in every nuance of Draco’s gorgeously fit body. He loves to watch Draco grow hard while Harry circles, cock unfurling like a sleeping snake until it’s sticking out in a sleek curve from his body.

Harry’s quickly learned what Draco loves—namely dirty talk and submission.

“What a fucking slut you are, Malfoy. A filthy cock slut _. My_ filthy cock slut.” His eyes flicker to Draco’s face. “Isn’t that right?”

Draco swallows and nods. Harry has a feeling he knows he’s created a monster.

“Say it.”

“I’m a filthy cock slut, Harry.”

“That’s right; you are.” Harry reaches out and flicks Draco’s cock with his finger and thumb, not really hard, but Draco gasps all the same.

“You fucking stand there until I get back, and just maybe I’ll fuck you.”

And of course Harry does, with Draco pliant and shivering beneath him.

 

Harry likes Draco to sleep in a pretty, silk, white camisole with a matching thong. Draco looks magnificent in it, of course, and he often teases Harry about how much he enjoys Draco’s knicker fetish. When Draco sleeps, the camisole slips up, revealing taut abs that Harry just wants to _lick_. Harry sometimes pulls the sheet down so he can see the outline of Draco’s cock in the white silk knickers. When Draco sleeps on his stomach, revealing the soft white globes of his arse, Harry often mounts him then and there, shooting a quick lubrication spell and pulling the slip of fabric aside, usually waking Draco with a slow, stretching burn.

Draco always welcomes it, arching his back and pressing his bum to Harry’s groin, stuttering out breaths as Harry’s thrusts speed up, and muffling a cry into the pillow when Draco comes.

 

“I’m not like this with everyone,” Draco says one night as they lie in each other’s arms.

Harry turns his face toward Draco in the darkness. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…I only like you ordering me about in bed. I’ve never wanted anyone else to do it.”

Harry thinks about this. “That’s okay with me. I’m different with you, too. You make me feel…just, really good.”

Harry feels Draco’s smile against his shoulder.

 

One night Harry sits at a pub drinking Firewhiskey, wondering why in the hell Draco asked him to meet him if he is going to stand Harry up.

The pub is dim and pretty shoddy—nothing like what Draco usually patrons, and Harry thinks for a moment perhaps he’s got the wrong place. But, no. This is definitely where Draco told him to go. Insecurity begins to gnaw at Harry. He’s never felt more happy and in control in his life than he has in these few months with Draco—everyone’s noticed it; but perhaps Draco’s grown tired of the whole thing. Of Harry. A simmering flame stirs in the pit of Harry’s stomach at the thought that Draco might have found someone else.

“All alone?” a husky voice asks in Harry’s ear, startling him. Harry’s about to politely dismiss the woman when he takes a second look, eyes moving over every inch.

Long blond hair which has to be either a very good wig or a charm; kohl surrounding beautiful grey eyes with long lashes coated in black mascara; a hint of blush accentuating high, patrician cheek bones; gorgeous full lips with a bit of glossy pink on them. And that body…a hint of bare belly with a _pierced navel_ , by Merlin, above a small, tight skirt accentuating the pleasing swell of an arse Harry would recognise anywhere; a slight suggestion of tits beneath a silk top; and miles of gorgeous legs in a pair of black high heels.

“Oh, by the sweet Founders,” Harry breathes, looking Draco over. “Is that really you?”

Draco smiles in a sultry way that goes straight to Harry’s groin.

“Rumour has it you have a cock the size of a bull’s,” Draco says in a low voice. He reaches over and unbuttons Harry’s shirt to just beneath his sternum and runs a long, red fingernail over the dark hair on Harry’s exposed chest.

Harry grins. “You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in high heels.”

Draco perches on the bar stool next to Harry, and Harry leans into him. “What, pray tell, do you have stuffed into that bra?” He can see the outline of it beneath the black silk shirt. He nibbles on Draco’s shoulder. “Conjured yourself some titties?” Harry’s not sure if he wants that—he likes Draco’s firm pectorals and small, flat nipples.

“How rude,” Draco says. “Aren’t you even going to buy me a drink before you try to get beneath my clothes?”

Harry orders another two Firewhiskeys. He puts a hand on the small of Draco’s back, fingers trailing the soft skin there.

“What’s a little whore like you doing in a place like this?” Harry asks.

Slowly, Draco looks about the room before his eyes land on Harry again. “Seriously?”

Harry has to laugh. Now he knows why Draco chose this place for Harry to meet him; perfect pub for a dirty rendezvous.

“I’ll bet your panties are soaked thinking about what I can do for you,” Harry says, taking a sip of his drink. The barman gives him a disbelieving look before turning away. Draco raises a brow.

“You certainly are making a scene.” He clinks his glass against Harry’s and drinks. “Do you come here often?”

Harry suppresses a laugh. If Draco wants to play, Harry will play.

“I was supposed to meet someone here but the sod stood me up.”

“I can’t imagine anyone standing you up, particularly if the rumours are true.”

“Oh, they’re true.” Harry takes one of Draco’s hands and places it in his lap, right over the large bulge there. Draco’s eyes widen as he strokes it with long nails.

“My, my, my. Are you sure you haven’t stuffed a sock down there? Or perhaps a sausage?”

“Speaking of socks…” Harry’s eyes gesture to Draco’s chest.

Draco snorts quietly but doesn't give Harry an answer.

“Perhaps your date found something better," Draco says, taking another sip of the Firewhiskey.

“More likely he’s too sore after last night to move.”

“Think highly of yourself, do you?” Draco arches a brow.

“I’d tell you all about it, only actions speak louder than words. My place or…yours?”

Draco’s eyes darken perceptively. “I have a room upstairs.”

Harry looks past Draco to the stairs. “Here? In this place?”

“A few cleaning charms did wonders.”

Draco stands, and Harry throws a few galleons onto the bar before escorting Draco toward the stairway, a possessive hand gripping his arse. Several eyes turn their way as they exit.

Upstairs in the empty hallway, Harry stops and leans against the wall. Draco gives him an inquiring look.

“My room’s down at the end.”

“First things first. Suck me right here.” Harry enjoys watching Draco’s eyes widen in surprise. Draco pushes the long hair back from his face, looking a bit uncertain.

“Go on, Malfoy,” Harry taunts, gripping his crotch with his hand, “take out my cock.”

Draco starts to kneel, but Harry stops him.

“Wait. Lift up your skirt.”

Draco’s lips twitch, but he obeys, revealing the slip of red silk that barely covers him.

“Keep it bunched up at your waist,” Harry says, licking his lips at the sight of Draco’s pale skin against the dark crimson, and Draco nods before slowly lowering himself to the floor. Harry watches as Draco takes him out of his trousers, long red fingernails like blood against the flush of Harry’s cock. He looks down at where Draco’s cock strains against the front of the knickers.

“Well, the rumours are certainly true,” Draco says, breathing over Harry’s shaft. “My hand can barely circle you.” Draco licks a stripe with a delicate pink tongue.

“Shut up and suck me, bitch,” Harry says roughly, and Draco moans before taking Harry into his mouth.

 _Definitely a charm,_ Harry thinks as he grasps the long blond hair and tugs, forcing Draco to take more of him. Draco’s eyes water, the kohl running down his cheeks. He looks beautiful like this.

A creak on the stairs causes Draco to try to jerk back, but Harry won’t let him.

“Keep going, slut.” He pushes into Draco’s throat.

Whoever it was must turn around when they see them, because a moment later the sound of retreating footsteps reaches Harry’s ears. Draco sputters and gags, but his long nails dig into Harry’s legs as he continues to suck hungrily.

Just before he’s ready to burst, Harry pushes Draco away.

“Into the room,” he says, and doesn’t even help Draco up to totter on his heels down the long hallway. Harry pauses at the door, watching Draco’s long, lean legs beneath the scrunched up skirt, his cock a large bulge in the red knickers.

“Bastard,” Draco murmurs, opening the door. Harry chuckles and closes it behind them, not losing a beat before grabbing Draco up in a hungry kiss, hands squeezing his buttocks beneath the red silk.

“Get on that bed.” Harry takes off his trousers and throws them into the corner before taking hold of Draco’s blouse and ripping it open, revealing a red lace bra. “Padded,” he says with satisfaction, unhooking it and dragging it off. Harry bends and sucks a nipple between his lips, and Draco gasps, gripping Harry roughly by the hair. Harry’s hand runs up a smooth, bent knee. “You’ve shaved your legs,” he murmurs against the rosy bud. “You fucking, sexy, little slut.”

Draco moans, legs falling open. Harry can see that Draco's pre-lubed himself. With a satisfied smile, he lifts Draco’s knees onto his arms, taking a moment to slip the bit of fabric aside so he can shove his cock home. He fucks Draco hard, Draco’s high heels digging into Harry’s back. Draco breaks a nail on Harry’s arse trying to pull him closer, begging him for more, completely out of his mind with pleasure. The headboard of the old, sagging bed clobbers the wall, tilting pictures and putting frowns on old, nameless wizards’ faces. They cluck their tongues and disappear at the edge of the frames, all except for one who seems to like to watch and egg Harry on.  _"Fuck the slag harder!"_

“You’re sinful in a skirt and heels, Malfoy,” Harry grunts out, hips pivoting and bringing a gasp from Draco’s throat.

“I thought you might like it,” Draco rocks back into Harry’s thrusts. He catches his bottom lip between white teeth and keens.

Harry bends to kiss the glossy lips, bed creaking like it might fall into a million pieces at any minute.

They climax together, perfectly, shivers running from one body into the other and back again. Harry collapses sideways.

“Did you get the room for the whole night?” he asks when he’s caught his breath. Draco nods, and Harry leans over to kiss a sweaty ear. “How ‘bout you get back to normal, then?”

Draco reaches for his wand and flicks it over himself. The wig and makeup disappear, along with the clothing. Except for the red panties. Harry smiles and cuddles up next to him.

After a while, Draco asleep beside him, Harry stares into the darkness.

“What are you thinking?” Draco suddenly asks, and Harry jumps.

“You scared me!”

“Sorry,” Draco sounds amused. “The great Harry Potter…”

“Shut it. I was thinking…well.”

“Harry?” Draco shifts on the bed.

“I was thinking about how, just before you arrived at the bar, I’d thought maybe you weren’t coming.” Harry hates how small his voice sounds.

“Why wouldn’t I come? I invited you here.”

“Yeah. But you were late, and I just got to thinking that maybe you had…a better offer.”

The bed creaks as Draco rises to his elbow. Harry can feel him looming over him in the dark.

“A better offer!”

“I know, I know. No one’s got a cock as big as mine.”

“Harry, is that all you think you are to me after all this time? A big cock to fuck me?”

Harry isn’t sure how to answer. They’d been doing it since May, and it was September now…He supposes that is quite a long time for a fling.

Draco leans back against the headboard, and Harry can tell he’s running his fingers through his hair, even though it’s too dark to see.

“Bloody hell, Harry, I could buy a dildo if that’s all I wanted.”

Harry turns his head, nose against Draco’s hip. He can’t resist sticking his tongue out and taking a lick.

“Oh, no. Don’t you try to start something when you pretty much just called me a cock whore.”

“I’m always calling you a cock whore.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Draco.” Harry struggles to sit up.

“So now you call me Draco.”

“I call you Draco a lot.”

“Not really.”

Harry leans his head on Draco’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Why didn’t you say?”

Draco sighs. “I don’t mind that you call me Malfoy, at least not while you’re fucking me. But we’re more than that, Harry. Aren’t we?”

Harry nods against Draco’s shoulder. “We are.” He puts his hand on Draco's arm, thumb smoothing over the skin. "I think of you as Draco, if that helps any."

Harry hears Draco's smile in his voice. "It does."

Draco moves around and takes Harry’s chin in his hand, kissing him softly.

“I’m not about to leave. You’ll have to kick me out.”

“I’m not likely to do that,” Harry snorts.

“Then I guess we’re stuck with each other.”

“I guess we are.” Harry presses forward, tongue sweeping through Draco’s mouth, tasting Firewhiskey and himself. He pulls Draco closer, enjoying the feel of his warm body pressed to his.

“Okay now?” Draco asks, kissing the top of Harry’s head and scooting down in the bed to rest his head on the pillow.

“Better than okay.” Harry smiles, wondering how he got so lucky. He lays his head on Draco's chest, listening to the steady heart beats beneath his ear, hands holding Draco firmly around the waist until they gradually loosen in sleep.

 

  _fin_

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
